1 O, send me not away! for I would drink, Even I, the weakest, at the fount of life; Chide not my steps, that venture near the brink, Weary and fainting from the deadly strife. 2 Went I not forth undaunted and alone, Strong in the majesty of human might? Lo! I return, all wounded and forlorn, My dream of glory lost in shades of night. 3 Was I not girded for the battle-field? Bore I not helm of pride and glittering sword? Behold the fragments of my broken shield, And lend to me Thy heavenly armor, Lord! 203. C. M. Furness. The Penitent Son. 1 O, richly, Father, have I been Blest evermore by Thee! And morning, noon, and night Thou hast Preserved me tenderly. 2 And yet the love which Thou shouldst claim To idols I have given; Too oft have bound to earth the hopes That know no home but heaven. 3 Unworthy to be called Thy son, I come with shame to Thee, Father!--O, more than Father, Thou Hast always been to me! 4 Help me to break the heavy chains The world has round me thrown, And know the glorious liberty Of an obedient son. 5 That I may henceforth heed whate'er Thy voice within me saith, Fix deeply in my heart of hearts A principle of faith,-- 6 Faith that, like armor to my soul, Shall keep all evil out, More mighty than an angel host, Encamping round about. 204. 7s. M. Milman. Lord, Have Mercy. 1 Lord, have mercy when we pray Strength to seek a better way; When our wakening thoughts begin First to loathe their cherished sin; When our weary spirits fail, And our aching brows are pale; Then Thy strengthening grace afford; Then, O, then, have mercy, Lord! 2 Lord, have mercy when we know First how vain this world below; When its darker thoughts oppress, Doubts perplex, and fears distress; When the earliest gleam is given Of the bright but distant heaven; Then Thy strengthening grace afford; Then, O, then, have mercy, Lord! 205. L. M. * I Will Arise and Go unto My Father. 1 To Thine eternal arms, O God, Take us, Thine erring children, in; From dangerous paths too boldly trod, From wandering thoughts and dreams of sin. 2 Those arms were round our childish ways, A guard through helpless years to be; O leave not our maturer days, We still are helpless without Thee! 3 We trusted hope and pride and strength: Our strength proved false, our pride was vain, Our dreams have faded all at length,-- We come to Thee, O Lord, again!